Shadow Butterfly
by Golden Lioness-Goldie
Summary: She is ambitious, fiery and compelling.He is famous, alluring and passionate. A chance meeting throws them together,and a spirit shows them the way.Not Moon Child, Gacktfanfic.Before you ask, NO YAOI! Rating went up.
1. Étincelle Soudaine

**A/N: And so it begins. I love fantasy. Anyway, I know this is about Gackt and not Sho, but we'll pass through the Moon Child section of time eventually! It begins just after the death of Gackt's dear friend Kami (who happens to play a fairly major role even in death), and I hope you enjoy!**

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><p>It was August twenty-third, 1999, at nine-thirty pm. It was a moment that would revolutionize the J-rockpop industry. It was the moment that a young, ambitious woman and her band started their first performance. It was the moment that GREYCE began.

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><p><em>Look back up and see me waiting,<em>

_Watch me fighting to make my way toward you_

_I can't take the pain of losing your gaze_

_Tho' I've fallen far from your grace,_

_I've fallen far from your grace._

"Damn, Amami, you come up with the best stuff, doncha?"

The girl in question grinned, fingering the guitar in her lap almost absently. She had just finished showing her best friend and bass player Aoshi the latest song she had come up with. He was hurriedly scribbling it down on the sheet of paper in front of him.

"What do you wanna call it, Amami?"

"Don't know. It's about falling out with someone, so I guess we could call it "Falling" or something."

"Well, what if we called it "Tumble" or "Collapse" or something?"

"Not a bad idea. Ask Botahn and Onkei what they think."

Aoshi scratched his chin. "We should debut it at the gig this weekend."

Amami grinned. "You still think some guy from a record company looking for new talent will be there, don't you?"

"I know there will. Just you wait, GREYCE will break into the big time in no time! Especially with your beautiful voice gracing our music."

Her gaze remained fixed on a point on the wall. Though pure Japanese, her eyes were an odd grayish shade of blue. She had radically styled hair colored blue and white, the ends of her asymmetrical bangs were red, and she had three piercings per ear. Not much, but she still looked like what she was: the leader of a "Visual Kei" band.

Not that she knew much about the "Visual" bits. She didn't know because Amami Hayashi, leader of GREYCE, master of the guitar and violin, was almost completely blind. She saw faint shapes, faint shadows. That was all. She could navigate easily enough. She could even ride a bike or ski (though she needed a guide). In fact, unless you knew of the condition, there was no way to tell she was blind short of asking her to read, write, look at you or name a color being shown to her. She could remember colors, though. She'd lost her sight at the age of ten to early-onset semi-malignant cataracts.

She sighed and stood, carefully skirting the faint shadows that symbolized furniture. She was headed to the club for a final checkup.

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><p>Amami was delicately tracing the edge of the stage with her footsteps.<p>

"You are quite positive you can do this, right?"

The manager. Amami smiled. "Of course. I have setup planned out perfectly. All you have to do is change nothing. If the mike is even an _inch_ off, it will throw my picture out the window."

Their first gig was at a common enough place, just the average low-key club. On the other hand, several famous celebrities had been spotted there attempting to get some privacy (_privacy in a public place, what a joke,_ thought Amami). She knew that Aoshi hoped that would happen on the night they performed. Botahn, the keyboardist, and Onkei, the drummer, were both skeptical, but none more so than Amami herself. She believed that reaching the top as they hoped to took hard work, determination, and a refusal to hear the words "no" or "that's not possible". Especially in GREYCE's case, the singer being a woman-and a blind one, at that. She'd been talking to the guys about stage names, too, but she didn't think they really needed them. Of course, most band members in Japan had stage names. X Japan, for instance, or Luna Sea. Solo artists tended to have stage names as well, like GACKT-who, incidentally, was at that moment making his way to the very club Amami was setting up for. But no one knew that, least of all Amami.

"So, do you have stage names?"

Oh, just what she wanted, a direct question. "Er, no. Never really thought about it, I mean, it's the band as a whole that matters. Who we are shouldn't detract from our music."

"I see...I suppose you could be right, but honestly you could give yourself any name you wanted."

"I like my name just fine, thanks. No offense meant, manager-san."

"None taken, Amami-san. GREYCE-all capitals, correct?" at her nod, he continued, "Yes, GREYCE is more important as a whole."

"Thank you. I swear we will not disappoint you."

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><p>Gackt stretched his arms and groaned, sitting in his (borrowed) car outside the tiny club. He was attempting not to draw attention to himself-even rockstars needed a break from the cameras. Besides, he always looked forward to hearing new bands. He'd even borrowed the car from Chachamaru since it was far less obvious than his own. He slumped slightly in his seat, watching as a pair of young men-probably no older than him-got out of a faded blue van and grabbed an amp each. The bandmembers, obviously. A third young man was standing at the passenger's side door to the car, and Gackt rather thought he was talking to someone. To his surprise, the man handed out a tiny, frail-looking woman. She was lifted with the ease of much practice, and after a moment, she and the man came towards him. He was struck by her movement, for thought she appeared frail, she moved as if through water, with the kind of flowing grace rarely acheived even by dancers. He hardly noticed her dyed hair or pale skin; He always focused first on how a woman spoke and behaved. By the looks of her movement, though, she was rather refined. He hastily pulled his beanie over his blonde-bleached hair and removed his sunglasses, tossing them carelessly on the dash. He was still composing himself to roll down his window as they came towards him. The man, Gackt noticed, was probably around his age, with black hair and dancing chocolate eyes, mischief in every movement.<p>

"Pardon me, sir, but are you planning to enter the club tonight?"

Gackt smiled affably. "Yes, I am, but it's not open yet."

"Well-" the man's moderately deep voice was cut off by a light touch on his shoulder from the girl.

"Come now, Aoshi, you sound as if you are accusing him of something. Let me handle this." Gackt resisted the temptation to lean out the window and stare at her. Her voice was as smooth as her movement, and her speech was proper and refined. When she smiled, he felt his heart rate increase as he watched her full lips part over her straight white teeth. She was beautiful.

"My apologies, sir. Aoshi and I are part of the band performing tonight, and we were wondering if you would be so kind as to help us get some of our equipment inside."

He swallowed convulsively, his mouth dry. He hoped she didn't notice that. "Uh, sure. Sure, of course. Let me just-"

He got out of the car, trying not to trip over himself in his haste. A tiny part of him was a bit pissed that they clearly didn't recognize him, but the rest of him was screaming, _KEEP YOURSELF TOGETHER, GAKUTO! NOT BEING RECOGNIZED IS THE WHOLE POINT!_

The man held his hand out, and as Gackt shook it, he said "My name is Aoshi Morioka. Pleased to meet you. This is Amami Hayashi."

"A pleasure," he said, lifting Amami's proffered hand gently. He momentarily debated kissing it, but decided that would be too obvious. He instead opted for a gentle shake. She looked so frail that he caught himself consciously trying not to squeeze her hand very hard. "My name is Gakuto. Camui Gakuto."

She inclined her head, and Gackt noticed for the first time the incredibly dark sunglasses she wore. It was almost nine at night now, and rather dark, but who was he to talk? He wore sunglasses all the time, even inside. He wondered briefly if she might have a similar condition to himself-photosensitive eyes-and dismissed it just as briefly. She spoke again in her smooth, high voice. "Gakuto. A musician?"

"Yes, how did you guess?"

"Gakuto means 'Educated Person', does it not? As a rule, musicianship is part of an educated person."

He smiled at her. "Yes, that's true. My father is a jazz trumpeter."

She smiled too, though not directly at him. "How odd, my father is an improvisational clarinetist! He's quite fond of jazz." By this time, Aoshi had unconsciously pulled ahead of them and opened the back of the blue van, yanking out boxes that appeared to be full of drumset and music tech equipment. Gackt took the opportunity to talk to her a little more, asking "So what position are you in this band? I don't know much about tonight, my friend bought me my ticket." Not a lie, You had gotten it.

"Well," she said softly, lifting a hand to her mouth and demurely covering a giggle, "Our band is named GREYCE, G-R-E-Y-C-E all capitals. We've only been working together as we stand now for about six months, but we all work well together. It's myself, Aoshi, and our other two members, Botahn Tsakitsume and Onkei Mitashi. I'm lead guitar and vocals, and I also compose the songs, though if nore than one of us comes up with lyrics, we vote on the ones we think are best for the music. I also play violin."

"GREYCE, vocals...I must say, I'm looking forward to this," he said. "What exactly should I carry in for you guys?"

By this time, they had reached the van. Aoshi handed Amami a guitar case, gently turning her in the direction of the door and giving her a light push. "Go on, Amami. Gakuto here looks strong. We can get the rest."

"If you say so." She walked slowly-always slowly-to the door.

Gackt shot Aoshi a slightly accusatory glance. "Why did you do that?"

"What?"

"Show her where the door is."

"You mean you didn't figure it out?" He sounded astonished.

"What?" Now Gackt was irritated. This guy was treating him like he was stupid.

Aoshi just sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Amami's blind, man. Stone blind. She can hardly see shapes."

"Blind?" She was blind? Amami was_ blind_! It took him by surprise. "What do you mean, she's _blind_?"

He ran his hand through his hair again. "Exactly what you'd think. Amami lost her sight when she was ten years old. She sees vague shapes and, depending on the sun, faint shadows. That's how she gets around. Who else would wear mirrored sunglasses at this time of night?"

_I would, _he thought, but didn't say it. Instead, he lifted the larger box with the ease of much practice, prompting Aoshi to look amazed, then said, "You know her well, do you?"

He grinned, hoisting his own box out of the van. "She's like a little sister I never had." Aoshi frowned. "Scratch that, she's a little sister I actually like."

He tossed his box on top of the one Gackt was already holding without warning, looking pleased when he didn't stagger. He grabbed another instrument case out of the van and placed it on the ground, then removed a large case that was probably a keyboard. He picked up both, sighed, and motioned toward the door.

"What is she like?"

Aoshi shot an odd look at Gackt. "Why? Think she's cute or something?"

Gackt decided to be honest. "She's not cute, she's beautiful. It's not every day you meet a woman like that."

"...You're smarter than I thought."

"What?" Gackt frowned. What was that suppsoed to mean?

"You saw her personality first, didn't you?"

"She seems like a very...how do I say this without sounding completely chauvinistic...a very, er, _refined _woman."

"You got that right. She's like no one I've ever known. She's only twenty-three, but she graduated high school in my class. She was sixteen! Sixteen and blind, showing all us eighteen-year-old perfectly healthy men up! I've never seen anything like her. We've been friends since we were kids."

"Wow. She's as intelligent as she is beautiful."

"You're welcome to her, if she'll have you."

Gackt almost dropped the boxes in shock. "Excuse me?"

Aoshi smirked. "She's pretty picky about who she dates. She was with this one guy all through high school and she's still his best friend. He was a great guy, too, really unusual. Drummer, I think."

"Was?"

They had reached the door now, and as Aoshi pushed it carefully open, he frowned. "He died a few months ago."

Gackt felt a chill run through his bones. "What was his name?"

"Why do you need to know?"

"Just...curious, I guess."

"Hmph. His name was Ukyou. Kamimura Ukyou."

This time Gackt _did _drop the boxes-thankfully on a table. "Ukyou Kamimura! I knew him!"

"You did?"

Suddenly, she was there. "You knew my Ukyou?" And she grabbed him by the arms, shaking him with more force than he would have thought she could. "You knew my Kami! Who are you? You weren't at his funeral! I don't recognize your voice, if you were his friend you should have been-"

She stopped suddenly. "You're Gackt. That's who you are. You were his only friend who wasn't at his funeral." She started to shake a bit, and he held her arms gently, trying not to hurt her. "I remember yelling at Mana about it. I remember how he didn't tell you. Everyone thought I was crazy, yelling at a fellow guest in front of Kami's casket. But I just told them he would have wanted you there. He wanted you there, and Mana was too much of a self-centered little _bitch_-"

He started at the word, amazed that she was so upset as to swear at all, much less with that word relating to a man. But the words kept spilling out. She was flooding him with things he'd never known. " He couldn't even tell me why you weren't there! I-I..."

She stopped suddenly. He held her steady, oblivious to the incredulous look on Aoshi's face. He spoke softly, like he would to Belle when she was frightened of a rainstorm. "Yes, that's me; it's okay, you're right, Kami wouldn't have wanted-" he broke off. He'd never been good at hiding his emotions. "Kami would have wanted Mana to at least call me. I had a feeling the entire time that something was wrong. When I found out, I cried for a week. I couldn't figure out why I hadn't tried to call Kami directly. What else happened?"

She sniffed, and he was appalled to see tears leaking from underneath her sunglasses. "Is it okay if I take these off, Amami-san?"

She nodded, and he removed them. Her eyes were closed, tears trickling from the long lashes. "I remember yelling at Mana. They-the funeral people-they let me touch Kami's face. My last 'sight'-" she laughed derisively, "My last sight of his face. He was so cold and still, it wasn't like him at all. Then Mana tried to lead me to my seat, and I turned on him. I screamed over Kami's _dead_ _body_ that Mana was a complete and utter jerk, that he should never have tried to leave you out of it because of some stupid grudge. He tried to shut me up, but I kept yelling. Than I slapped him."

Gackt had to laugh. "You _slapped _him? _Mana?"_

"Yes! I slapped him! If Kami had known what that complete _prick _had done, he would have-"

"-Punched him in the face." Gackt finished.

"Yes..." Amami opened her eyes. Gackt hadn't been sure what he would see, but her open eyes gave him one thought, and one thought only_: protect her_. They were large and full of tears, completely fogged over, except for a few dark brown flecks that were probably the only reason she could see anything, even shapes. They seemed to be staring directly at him, though he knew she couldn't see more than the outline of his face. She looked so vulnerable, so sad. "I'm sory to become so emotional, but it's just such a fresh wound..."

He completely forgot himself and pulled her into a tight hug, her tiny five-foot frame swallowed by his own, for he was nearly a foot taller. He spoke barely above a whisper. "I know. So new..."

She clasped her arms around him, to his surprise, laying her head on his chest. She smelled of chrysanthemums. He bent his neck to brush his lips lightly on the top of her head, no longer caring that Aoshi was there, nor that two more young men- the other two band members, most likely-had entered and were staring. All he knew right know was her. Her tears were his tears, the wound of Kami's premature death ripped open anew. He held her as he though Kami may once have, and he tried through their embrace to tell her everything he couldn't voice. Her hot tears dropped onto his shirt, her sobs wracked her frame and he held her tighter. He held her like he was her anchor, like she would float away if he let go. He'd never met another person so unique, beautiful and friendly, but at the same time emotional and fiery. If he could have visualized what was happening to him, he would have seen the threads of his life snapping all around him, every connection he had splintering. He would have seen them winding into a cable of solid steel, connecting him to the center of his universe-the girl he held in his arms. He almost couldn't believe himself, he'd only known her for about five minutes and she was everything. She was his sun, moon and stars. She was his air, his sun, and his reason to be.

He loved her. He, Gakuto Camui, was twenty-six years old and had fallen in love for the first-and he was sure-the last time of his life. He stood like a straight, proud tree, holding her safe from harm. He couldn't stop the words leaving his mouth, the French heavily accented.

"_Je t'aime plus que ma propre vie ..._"

To his amazement, she answered in kind. "_... et vous me complète._"

_I love you more than my own life..._

_...And you complete me._

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><p><strong>AN: That was SO much fun!:D I said Kami played a part, didn't I? But don't fret, Kami fans! He's not done with this story yet!**

**I know I didn't go much into Amami here and that Gackt would be unlikely to actually do that, but keep in mind that (a) this is mere months after Kami's death so he's particularly emotional, and (b) Amami's a new character still in development. Besides, who knows, maybe if he met the right person, someone as talented as him, but with flaws that made him want to keep them safe, he _would _act like that. Call it creative leeway.**


	2. La Mémoire

Aoshi had _no _idea what was going on. They ran into this guy who helped them carry their stuff in, Aoshi could personally guarantee that he'd never met the man, and there he stood watching this guy hold his closest friend like the two were lovers. Which he also knew wasn't possible since she'd only been with Kami. The three had grown up together, after all, and Kami had always been called Kami. Aoshi thought he knew everyone Amami did. Worse yet, she'd called him something that sounded an awful lot like the name of his little sister Mikako's favorite solo artist. On top of that, Botahn and Onkei had both come up to stand beside him. Onkei's mouth was hanging open and Botahn appeared to be rubbing his eyes in disbelief. Talk about an unexpected turn of events. Onkei placed a hand on Aoshi's shoulder, looking at him questioningly. Aoshi shook his head silently, not wanting to disturb Amami. He couldn't hear what Gakuto whispered to her, but she whispered back and Aoshi saw Gakuto's eyes widen in shock. What was going on?

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><p>When Gackt heard that one, softly whispered phrase leave Amami's lips, he couldn't help but be shocked. She spoke French as well as Japanese. Perhaps she spoke English as well. But the fact remained he had never met another person like her. She moved her lips like she was trying to speak, but no sound came out. He could only stand there and hold her, fully aware of the incredulous-and, in at least one case, murderous stares leveled at the back of his head. But he couldn't move. He felt like if he so much as wiggled a toe, she'd break. Stupid of him, he knew, it was clear she was stronger than that.<p>

_Oh, great, _he thought. _Camui Gakuto, mother cat. _Hide and protect. _I'm so glad the guys aren't here._ He knew they'd just laugh at him. Especially You. You would be on the floor having a fit of the giggles right about now. Yet it was such a serious matter...

Amami stirred against him, her tiny hands gripping his arms incredibly forcefully. "Gakuto..."

He stroked her hair for a moment. "Shh...It's all right, Amami. You've done nothing wrong." Amami closed her fogged eyes again.

"No, and neither did you. Thank you, Gakuto, for helping me release some of that emotion. I know I've only just met you, but I thank you for your understanding."

He smiled, wishing she could see it. "You are very welcome. I'm looking forward to your performance."

She pulled away. Nodding slightly, she turned and picked her way across the room. Gackt left to enter the main room of the club, and as he closed the door behind him, he heard Aoshi hissing at Amami.

"What the hell was that, how the-"

As the latch clicked losed, he heard Amami cut Aoshi off. "Not now, Aoshi. It's not the most important thing r-"

He leaned against the door with a heaved sigh. He was an idiot. He was just too obvious. Gackt resolved, right then and there, to become a better actor. Wih his solo career taking off at a pace even he hadn't anticipated, he'd need to learn how to hide his personal life and his feelings. It had been easy in Malice Mizer, but he wouldn't be able to place the attention on others like he had then. You, maybe, but he doubted it. You had already told him not to shove him too far into the spotlight. He liked his privacy, You did. And Gackt realized he would be hard pressed for any at all.

He made his way to the front door of the club, handed his ticket to the woman at the front, and found his seat with ease. The line was fairly long, and he swore he saw the CEO of EMI Music Japan, but he decided instead to concentrate his attention on anyone who might sit near him. He really wanted to avoid that.

To his surprise, no one sat anywhere close to him. He had clear space for three seats on either side. Pleased, he settled in to watch GREYCE, eager for another glimpse of Amami, and even more eager to hear her sing.

That was when he saw the light.

It was a glowing, in the corner of his eye. He flicked his eyes towards it, but it moved away. He was looking at a wall now, but that glowing light was still there. It got larger, brighter, and he shut his eyes in pain. The light got so bright that it shone red through his eyelids, but to his surprise, he heard no sound around him aside form the sharp intake of breath that belonged, he realized, completely to himself. The glowing was now a shining, and he was about to bury his head in his hands in an attempt to block it out when it disappeared. He cautiously opened his eyes, blinking at the blank expanse of wall.

"What the he-" Gackt spun around in his seat and never got the last syllable out.

The man in the chair next to Gackt grinned, tucking long reddish-brown hair behind his ears. His eyes were a chocolate brown color, and he had three rings on his left hand. He was dressed simply enough, in a black t-shirt and jeans with a wallet chain, but Gackt wasn't staring for that. He was semi-transparent and floating almost an inch off the seat, no thanks to the large purple, pink and blue butterfly wings arcing out from his shoulders and through his waist-length hair. Gackt swallowed, his throat gone dry, and tried to speak.

"K-Ka..." He couldn't finish. The man placed a transparent finger on Gackt's lips, and Gack felt suddenly warm. His round face seemed to light up, and he spoke, his voice a light tenor that reverbrated almost as if through a dream. "Gacchan, be quiet."

The three words caused Gackt to realize what he was seeing. The spirit of Ukyou Kamimura, his treasured, beloved, departed friend, sat within inches of him. And was telling him to be quiet. Kami continued to speak.

"You're the only person here who can see me or hear me. Gacchan, don't say a word, and loosen up. People will notice you all tense and talking to yourself."

Gackt relaxed his posture, never taking his eyes of his best friend's image. He tried to speak without moving his lips.

"Kami? Kami, what...?Am I seeing things?"

Kaim poked Gackt's forehead. The spot seared with heat. "Don't be ridiculous, Gacchan. I'm a ghost, and you can see me."

"But...how?"

"Same way you could always catch glimpses of others that hung about. I'm just the first one to actually attempt to contact you."

"Why?"

Kami turned toward the curtained stage. He spoke in a voice hardly above a whisper, and Gackt heard something that never happened, not to Kami. Kami's voice was choked with emotion. "Tell me you met her."

"Her...do you mean...Amami?"

Kami laughed bitterly. "Yes, the net I almost let catch me. Amami."

"Net?"

"The net to my butterfly, of course. I should have stayed with her."

"_She's_ the reason you've-what are you doing, exactly?"

Kami rolled his eyes in a wonderfully familiar gesture. "Amami is the reason I, the spirit and consciousness of Kamimura Ukyou, called Kami, have returned from eternal rest to counsel and guide my dear friend Camui Gakuto, called Gackt, in the pursuit of my former lover, Hayashi Amami. Official enough for you?"

Gackt chuckled under his breath. "If that's the case, good to have you back, Kami. Wait, did you say _pursuit_? As in courting?"

"You're so thick_. Ye-es_. She'd be good for you, and vice versa. Don't deny it, Gacchan, you've got it bad."

He did, Kami was right. Really, _really_ bad. Still..."But what about you?"

Kami snorted laughter, now derisive in the face of his living friend's idiocy. "I'd like to point out that I'm _dead _over here. No living person has frikkin butterfly wings coming out of his shoulders. _I don't give a damn. _Anyway, she needs to move on. We broke up three years ago."

Gackt frowned, glancing at the still-dark stage. "She still loves you. She was at your funeral." He nearly choked on the last word.

"I know." Kami went quiet. "I was still there. I saw everything. I must say she has one hell of a backhand on her."

"I though she said she slapped Mana."

Kami laughed, wholeheartedly this time. "She backhanded him full across the face. Hit him so hard she knocked him out cold. I can actually show you my memory of that."

Gackt grinned. "Will you?" Kami grinned right back.

"We've got another ten minutes before showtime, so why not?" Kami stood and walked-no, drifted-in front of Gackt. He knelt and placed a hand on either side of Gackt's head. The contact between Gackt's living flesh and Kami's ethereal form burned. The club faded, then Kami himself. And it was all replaced with a very different scene.

Gackt stood in a modest, traditional room with a few things out of place. Primarily the dozen or so crying women and slightly larger number of stone-faced men. The coffin dominating the room was wrong, too. Gackt looked at it and saw the cold, stone-smooth face that belonged to the spirit who, he saw suddenly, stood right next to him. A woman was being led to the coffin, her black hair falling carelessly over her eyes. With a jolt, Gackt spotted the foggy irises, realizing that this was Amami only three months earlier. And her guide-Aoshi. She had large tears falling from her eyes, but she didn't notice. Another man, shorter and more delicate than Aoshi, held Amami's other arm. He had bleached hair tied into a horsetail, and his face, while studiously blank, betrayed sadness in his black eyes. Mana.

Amami's hands were carefully placed onto the face of the man in the casket. Out of the corner of his eyes, Gackt saw Kami shiver convulsively. Amami spent a minute tracing the contours of the dead face, brushing her fingertips on the smoky lavender-colored eyelids, tracing the bridge of Kami's nose. Gackt realized that the coffin-bound Kami's hair was short. "Kami, why is your hair long if it was short when you..." he trailed off.

Kami smiled a little. "It's how I spent most of my life, with long hair. Short hair wasn't my primary look, so I have long hair."

Suddenly, the black-haired version of Amami whirled and yelled words that Gackt couldn't hear at Mana. Mana stepped forward to caution her, trying to hold her arms and lead her away from the casket. Aoshi simply stood looking equal parts shocked and disgusted, though at whom it wasn't clear. Suddenly, sound crashed into Gackt's ears.

"YOU CAN'T _POSSIBLY_ UNDERSTAND HOW _HE_ WOULD FEEL! YOU DON'T EVEN UNDERSTAND HOW _I_ FEEL!"

Amami was yelling at Mana. He was trying to caution her, his deep baritone voice slightly frantic. "Now, Amami, I-"

But he din't finish. Amami removed one hand from Aoshi's shoulder and, in a single, swift movement, neatly backhanded Mana across the face. The smack reverbrated around the room, and Mana crumpled to the ground. Gackt saw Yu~ki and Kozi run up.

"She's knocked him out!" That was Kozi.

"Amami, chill! Mana's out cold!" Yu~ki.

"She knocked him out with a _slap?_" asked Gackt, awestruck.

"She's strong," said Kami. "Being blind and all, she took special blind self-defense courses. She can easily knock someone out with just that."

"Ah."

Kami's burning touch hit Gackt's shoulder. "We need to go back." Gackt made no reply. He was busy watching Mana be carried away by Kozi and Yu~ki, and started when Amami fell to the floor and began to sob.

Kami sighed and slapped Gackt. The heat of the semi-solid slap brought Gackt back to his senses. He was still in the club, and the curtain was beginning to move. He glanced around for Kami, and saw the figure of his best friend moving away across the ceiling. He almost called out, and Kami turned and looked at him. He smiled his familiar, happy, joyful smile, reminding Gackt about how they all had called him their Monkey Man. Gackt heard Kami's voice again as his flying form disappeared through a wall, loud and clear.

_"Don't worry, Gacchan. You'll see me again soon." _


End file.
